Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead
by eternityisours
Summary: my first fanfiction! Jack has been having dreams about a certain appleeating pirate and Anamaria is starting to worry about him. Meanwhile, Will and Elizabeth are having problems of their own. WE JA
1. Bloody Pirates

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**A/N**

After rereading my fanfiction, I realized that the first chapters are really, really shoddy, and I'm currently working on rewriting them, so it might be a while before I update with chapter nineteen.

**Important**: If you are planning on reading this, PLEASE only skim the first few chapters for an idea of the background of this story, and don't base your opinions of my writing skill on my first few chapters, because they're pretty crappy.

Lastly, thanks to all of my reviewers! You guys are awesome and you're what keeps me going. :)

Sasha

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own anything of POTC...but hey, you know, if Disney doesn't want Jack Sparrow or Will Turner (really, they'd have to be insane)...may I please have them?

Chapter 1: Bloody Pirates

**ANAMARIA**

Anamaria woke to the sound of this sort of a manly whimper. She sighed: this was the sixth night in a row.

Throwing back the covers, Anamaria nearly sleepwalked her way across the cabin floor to Captain Jack Sparrow's bed. She smiled at the sight of him. Then she realized that Jack was having some sort of a fit, tossing and turning.

"Jack?" she whispered, trying to poke him awake. "JACK!" He yelled something that sounded like "THAT IS MY APPLE, YE STUPID PIRATE!" With eyes half closed, he automatically reached for his sword and slapped the blade against Anamaria's throat.

She was a bit shocked, but she stayed still and waited until Jack had opened his eyes completely.

"Anamaria?" he said. She felt a shiver run down her spine as if someone was pouring water down her back like it always did when he said her name.

"Here," she said rather faintly. Jack dropped his sword and tried to figure out how to make his lungs work again.

"What was it?" said Anamaria.

"Nothing," Jack lied. His tone made it final that they were not discussing this any further.

Anamaria walked back to her own bed and climbed back into it with an extremely ungraceful _fromp_. After all these years of being Jack's first mate, he still didn't trust her like he should. Hadn't she proved herself to be loyal? And also, he STILL owed her a ship.

"Bloody pirate," she muttered to herself.

"I heard that," said Jack.

A/N: Well, this is my first fanfiction, and I know that this chapter is short, but please R/R, I need to know what you think. Will and Elizabeth are going to be in the next chapter, I promise!


	2. Confusion and Feelings

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**  
  
Disclaimer: Well, fine, you've got me, I don't own diddly squat of stuff from POTC, so stop rubbing it in already.  
  
Chapter 2: **Confusion and Feelings**  
  
"Bloody pirate," she muttered to herself. "I heard that," said Jack.

**WILL **

Will Turner sat down on his bed, thinking about his relationship with Elizabeth. He didn't have a clue where she thought they stood. And Norrington didn't look too happy about it all. Her father probably thought that she'd gone mad for choosing a blacksmith over a Commodore.

So really, no one wanted them together. Except for him and Elizabeth. But then, he thought as he stared up at the sky, maybe she didn't even love him.

** ELIZABETH**

Elizabeth Swann was resting on her bed when her father, Governor Swann, came in. She pretended not to see him.

She was still wearing her dress and corset, and her hair still perfectly placed upon her head, giving off the image of the prim and proper girl that she was supposed to be.

And yet, Elizabeth didn't feel like that girl anymore. Not on the inside, anyway. Her love for Will had changed her somehow.

She realized then that her father was speaking her.

"You know, I'm very surprised at you, Elizabeth," he was saying. "I really did think you were going to marry the Commodore.

Elizabeth chose not to say anything even though she knew she should.

** JACK**

Jack Sparrow was standing the very next morning at the front of his ship when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around only to be face-to- face with an angry looking Anamaria.

"Morning, luv," he said, trying to make his voice sound light and succeeding annoyingly.

"Where are we going?" she asked sharply. Jack felt, for some strange reason, stung.

"Tortuga," he replied, turning back away from her.

"What, so you can go and 'visit' some of your whores?" she snapped. He didn't say a word.

"They don't want you anymore," Anamaria continued. "You made them MAD, Jack—Scarlet, Giselle, the lot of them. And by now they—"

"Anamaria," Jack said suddenly, whirling around once again to face her. "Tell me one thing—am I the captain of this ship, or are you?"

"Captain!" Gibbs yelled. "We're about twenty minutes away from Tortuga!"

"Aye, I hear ye!" Jack yelled back, and walked away from Anamaria.

A/N: Okay, so please please review and tell me what you think!!!! Because I live for that stuff, you know, I need more of them...

**Brittany Baker:** I'm so glad you like it!!! bounces around excitedly

**My Stupid Sister: **Yes, well, I know you're going to continue reading it anyway. But honestly, I really do have a plot.


	3. What is it?

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**  
  
Disclaimer: WILL YOU PLEASE GO AWAY AND STOP MAKING ME SAY THAT I DON'T OWN ANYTHING??? PLEASE????????????????????  
  
Chapter 3: **What is it?**  
  
**ANAMARIA**  
  
"Well," Anamaria said though gritted teeth as Tortuga swam into view. "What about Will and Elizabeth?"  
  
"The eunuch? Miss Swann? What would I want with him and the sissy governor's daughter?"  
  
"For one thing, you miss the eunuch and the sissy governor's daughter," Anamaria told him.  
  
Jack said nothing.  
  
"He knows it," Gibbs said, rolling his eyes. "Just doesn't want to admit it."  
  
"Of course," Anamaria agreed, talking to herself. "Never admits anything if he can help it."  
  
**ELIZABETH**  
  
"Hello?" Elizabeth called, walking into J. Brown's little shop. "Will?"  
  
In response, there was an extremely loud banging noise somewhere to her right.  
  
"Will?" she called again.  
  
"Here," said a faint voice.  
  
She crept forward a little. "Where?"  
  
A dusty Will Turner stepped out of the shadows. Dusty, but still her Will.  
  
"Here," he repeated, smiling a bit. There was something different, she could see it in his eyes.  
  
"What?" she demanded immediately. "What is it?"

**WILL**  
  
"What?" Elizabeth asked, eyes flashing. "What is it?"  
  
Will gave a small smile. One of the things he liked most about Elizabeth was that even though she was supposed to be a "lady", she really was kind of headstrong.  
  
"Well? What is it?" Elizabeth said again.  
  
He shifted from foot to foot, not answering.  
  
"Come on, Will," she said, voice softer.  
  
"It's...nothing." He wasn't telling her the truth, and really wasn't very sure why.  
  
"Will Turner,"—she was glaring now—"You had better tell me what's going on right now, or--"   
  
"I should have known," said a tremendously disgusted voice.  
  
A/N: Well just aren't I soooo nice to give you a sort-of cliffy...only it's not really. But that's okay, give me reviews anyway!!!!!!!!!!! Hey, that rhymed.  
  
**My Stupid Sister:** Will is doubting her love for him for a reason, silly goose brains.  
  
**Holliday1081:** Ack!!!! I am so scared that I'm going to disappoint you with my story and later chapters...wail  
  
**Araminta Ditch:** Yay!!! Thank you very much.  
  
**brittany baker:** big grin  
  
**williz:** well, here is your update!!


	4. Author's Note

**Authors Note:**  
  
Okay, so actually, I am in China right now, so I can't really update...I'M SORRY!!!!!!! So if there's some weird thing that you can't understand that I'm typing right now, sorry, because I am using a Chinese Microsoft Word, and it's really confusing me. But on to the next thing...  
  
**brittany baker**: Tthank you soo much for your support!!!!! And for being the first one who reviewed my story...  
  
**Araminta Ditch**: I know, I know!!! Isn't that just evil of me to put some kind-of cliff thing there???? Stink, now I feel bad.   
  
**williz**: yay, I like my rhyme!! Hrmph, well, I am not going to say anything about who's there. HEY, STUPID CHINESE MICROSOFT WORD, WHAT'S WITH THE LITTLE ARROW THINGIES????  
  
**Holliday1081**: okay, I'll stop being a silly head...or I'll try, anyway.  
  
Anyway, thank you all very much for being so supportive...I need to find a synonym for that. But I'm too lazy, I was on an airplane for about twenty hours, okay???  
  
--Mina 


	5. Not Proper

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: Get away from me; I know I don't own POTC.

Chapter 4: **Not Proper**

**ELIZABETH**

"I should have known," said a tremendously disgusted voice. Elizabeth turned around and was horrified to see both her father and Commodore Norrington come out of the darkness.

"Really, Elizabeth," her father began tersely. "What is so good about a simple blacksmith?"

"What's so good about a rigid Commodore?" she shot back, her eyes flashing again, ignoring the offended look on Norrington's face.

"What," hissed her father, "will the people think when they've heard that you love a BLACKSMITH of all people?"

"Why are you taking such an offense to this?" Elizabeth yelled, banging her fist down onto a nearby table with an extremely loud _thump_. Oh so unladylike.

"Well..." Governor Swann said, obviously flustered. "Because..."

"Because you can do better than him," Norrington cut in smoothly.

Elizabeth gaped at him.

"How long before you throw him away like a used tissue?" he continued quietly.

She gave him a withering look, then took a leaf out of Anamaria's book and slapped him across the face.

"Elizabeth!" her father exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"He deserved it!" she stormed.

"Elizabeth," her father said again. "Get outside. We need to have a little...a little talk."

**JACK**

_He turned around and stared at what was ahead of him._

"_But..." and for once, the famous Captain Jack Sparrow was speechless. "You're dead." _

_There was a cruel type of laughter, piercing through the air. The sound was all around him, he couldn't escape it this time—_

Jack woke up. There was a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, and the sheets were twisted around him.

"Jack?" came a voice. He looked up and saw a shaking Anamaria.

"I'm fine," he said unconvincingly. She glared at him.

"Well, okay, no, I'm not fine," he corrected. "But it's okay, I can deal with it, savvy?"

"No," Anamaria said bluntly. "Not savvy. This has been happening for a while, Jack..."

Something in her voice made him want to tell her. But he couldn't, she was already too close.

A/N: Yeah, that's not a cliffy thing, but hey, I'm trying, and that counts, right?

**brittany baker: **Yay!!!!! Thank you so, so much for leaving me all of your reviews, and telling me to keep going!!!!!!!!!

**Araminta Ditch: **Yessums, I did have lots of fun in China.

**williz:** I am completely relieved to have an English Microsoft Word now, I'm so happy!!! gleeful look

**nicole: **Yes, well, I do think that this is a longer chapter!!! I think the reason they're so short is that I write it out on paper first, so I can work on it whenever/wherever I want to, and then it looks long but when I type it out it's a lot shorter.

**nagem4:** I tend to hate cliffhangers too, but only when other people give them...:)

Oh yeah, I have a question... how come every time I put in astrics, it doesn't work??


	6. Trouble With Love

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: Go away, you stinkhead, I know I don't own **anything** from POTC.

Chapter 5: **Trouble With Love**

**JACK**

"No," Anamaria said bluntly. "Not savvy. This has been happening for a while, Jack..."

Something in her voice made him want to tell her. But he couldn't, she was already too close.

"Hey," she said, interrupting his thoughts.

"There's nothing you can do about it," Jack said. He realized how rude he sounded, and attempted to make it more polite with another "Savvy?"

Wait a minute. Why did he even care? What, exactly, was so special about Anamaria that made him want to tell her?

She slapped him, once again interrupting his thoughts. If Jack had been standing, he probably would have fallen down, so clearly this made her angrier than him commandeering her boat and not giving it back, then giving her one and having it blown up by Barbossa on accident.

"Jesus, Anamaria, what—" she raised her hand again and he shut up.

"What," she said calmly, "Is happening?"

"They're just dreams," Jack said, voice now firm instead of utterly confused.

**WILL**

Will shifted around uncomfortably; Norrington was full-on glaring at him. He could hear hushed voices coming from the front.

"He won't let her have anything more to do with you."

"What?"

"You heard what I said," Norrington told him.

"Governor Swann and his daughter are not ships, Commodore," Will said icily. "They are not soldiers, you cannot order them around."

Norrington smirked and said nothing. Then Elizabeth banged through the front door, followed by a weary Governor Swann.

**ANAMARIA**

Anamaria sat on her stool in the corner as Jack drank cup after cup of rum.

"Your captain is wasted," Giselle commented as she wiped down Anamaria's table with a clean rag. Anamaria snorted, choking on her rum as she did so.

"Usually is," Anamaria said.

"So he's easy then?"

She shrugged and Giselle sauntered her way over to Jack. Anamaria looked away; for some reason, she didn't really want to see this.

**JACK**

"Uh—what?" Jack said.

Giselle gave him a look that quite clearly said "There is a bed upstairs."

"No, sorry, have to return to my ship, you see—right?" Jack slurred. He was trying to turn Giselle down without the fainted sliver of an idea why.

"What?" Giselle said, confused.

"He's saying no," Anamaria said, stepping in between them.

"Oh, well," Giselle said, trying not to look disappointed. "He's too drunk to be any good anyway." And she left Anamaria to drag Jack out of the bar by herself.

A/N: All right, I'm really sorry that it's been so long since I've updated, I'm kind of sitting here and procrastinating because I'm afraid that my later chapters are not going to have any plot, and that's kind of scaring me. Aahhh!!! But I'll survive...I hope. Give me reviews, good or bad, even if they make me mad. LOOKIE, I CREATED ANOTHER RHYME FOR YOU, WILLIZ!!!! Except my first one was much better. ï 


	7. Strange Scents

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: Honestly, I don't know why I have to keep telling you that I don't own anything from POTC, except for my beloved plot.

Chapter 6: **Strange Scents**

**ANAMARIA**

"Well, we can't sail out of Tortuga with a drunk captain," Anamaria stated blankly.

"No, we can't," Gibbs said resignedly. "Best wait until morning, then."

They parted and Anamaria went to the cabin she shared with Jack.

She stepped in and closed the door quietly. Jack was on her bed for some reason, and he was STILL holding on to his rum bottle. For the first time, it seemed, he was sleeping peacefully.

Anamaria rolled her eyes and slept in Jack's bed instead. It smelled like rum.

**JACK**

Jack woke up, yawned, and breathed in deeply. His bed smelled really nice. It smelled like soap. WAIT, SOAP?!?! His bed was supposed to smell like rum, not soap. Since when was the last time he had used that stuff, anyway?

He sat up and looked around. He wasn't in HIS bed, he was in Anamaria's bed. A faint memory of him slumping into it last night stirred in his still-sleepy brain.

Wait...if he was in Anamaria's bed, then where--?

Something shifted to his right. Anamaria was sleeping in his bed with the tiniest glimmer of a smile on her face.

Jack would have almost melted at the sight of her, if not for Gibbs, who had just slammed his way into the cabin (without knocking, how considerably rude) and waking up Anamaria, and also completely waking up Jack.

"Captain!" he said as Anamaria glared at him sleepily.

"What?" Jack said, rather grumpy.

"The ship is ready to go."

"Oh, good," Jack smiled, gold teeth making his smile even brighter.

"Where are we going?" Anamaria demanded, clambering out of Jack's bed and following him to the front of the boat, clearly not tired anymore.

"To visit the whelp and the sissy governor's daughter," Jack said, giving her one of his trademark smiles.

"Oh, yeah, and we're visiting that one bloke, Norring...well, N something." Gibbs added.

A/N: Why, look at that, I actually updated!! And it didn't even take more than like, a month!! I am so proud of myself. :)

**williz:** Yeah, I like my new rhyme too!!! Hee hee!

**Araminta Ditch: **Oh, really??? You don't care if my chapters have a plot!?!?!? How happy that makes me!!! (Insert big fat grin take takes up half of face here)

**Holliday1081: **Ohmygoshers, I am sooo happy that you are liking my story. (shameful face) I'm still worried that it's not going to have a plot and my reviewing peoples won't like it.

**My Stupid Sister: **Bugger off, you farthead. (silly grin) it kind of had a plot, you just have to keep giving me reviews, okies??

**Afro Stacey: **Yes, I probably should read the rest of yours, but I have so many on my favorites list right now that it'll take me a while before I get to it, if I ever find the time for it.

**VirginVixen666: **Oh, Kim, you helpless person. (grin) No, just kidding, I love you so much!!! But anyway, that is very cool, so tell Cali to review my story or else I will bop her on the head with a frying pan from JC Penney. I will never delete your reviews, okies? Okies.


	8. Holy Terror

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: You know, if you really wanted to shove it in my face that I don't own anything, might I point out that YOU PROBABLY DON'T EITHER??

**A/N: I'm going to dedicate this chapter thingy to Ana and Mary Price, because I love them so much and it is their birthday!! (And Avril Lavigne's birthday too, now that I think about it)**

Chapter 8: **Holy Terror**

**ELIZABETH**

"You've got to let me out of here!" Elizabeth screamed at her locked bedroom door.

"Not until you agree to marry Norrington," her father answered stubbornly.

She jerked back the curtain and flung a lamp at her window. They both broke, as she'd predicted, showering glass everywhere. She gave a fake yelp.

Barely aware of her father yelling through the door, she stepped carefully over the bits of glass and peered out her window. It was a long jump, but she thought she could make it.

Her father burst through the finally unlocked door.

Elizabeth looked back at him, screamed "Holy terror!" just for effect, and jumped out the window.

**WILL**

Will made his way over to Governor Swann's house. He was going to tell him that—

A completely phony scream filled the air. Will stopped where he was—right in front of the Governor's house and under someone's window—and looked around. The people on the street nearby were all gasping and pointing up, right at what he had just now realized was Elizabeth's window. He looked up and saw Elizabeth peering down. Then she looked back over her shoulder and screamed "Holy terror!" or something like it, and jumped.

Will caught her with a _flump_.

"Hi," he said.

**ANAMARIA**

"Uh, Jack?" Anamaria said uncertainly.

Jack grunted.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at him closely.

"Yes, I am, why do you ask?"

"Because you're steering the ship toward Port Royal."

"Didn't I say I was going to?"

"But—"

"Weren't you the one who said that I missed the two of them?"

"The captain is sane, Anamaria," Gibbs reassured her, "Sane as he'll ever be."

"Positive?"

"Shut up, the both of you," said Jack, nodding to the sign at the front of Port Royal that read 'Pirates, ye be warned'.

The three of them nodded respectively at the bodies in unison and went back to their bickering.

"WE'RE HERE!" Gibbs yelled over Jack and Anamaria's voices.

"We're what?" they said.

"We're here," Gibbs repeated.

A/N: Well, well, will you look at that! My chapters are still miserably short, because I just can't seem to make them longer...I feel rotten.

**Holliday1081: **Yeah, I know I shouldn't worry about my plot, but I'm thinking that maybe since mine isn't really that interesting I will just randomly decide not to finish this story, and that would be silly. But I love yours, keep it coming!!

**wlliz:** (gives a happy, gleeful look)

**divabee: **Yes, Cali, I love you too.

**DracoIsMyLOVER: **Oh, Tram, you silly thing you!! I love you very much, and you know, just since you're my friend doesn't mean that if my story stinks worse than Hilary Duff you don't have to tell me...I know you are so obsessed with HP fanfictions!! (grin)

**sorylvr6: **No, you don't love me more than I love you...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! TO YOU AND AVRIL LAVIGNE!!


	9. Just In Time

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: Just go away, I completely and fully understand the concept of me not owning anything related to POTC except for this plot.

Chapter 9: **Just In Time**

**JACK**

"Why, you're just in time," said Governor Swann sarcastically as he marched out of his house, steam practically coming out of his ears.

"Yes, I'd say so, wouldn't you?" Jack said, strolling out from behind the trees, accompanied by Anamaria.

"_Jack?"_ Will said.

"Sparrow?" Governor Swann looked disgusted.

The three of them gaped open mouthed at Jack.

"You know, I'm here too," Anamaria scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What're you doing here?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, eyeing him with a slight look of repulsion on her face.

"Well, I missed the whelp here," said Jack, patting Will on the shoulder. "Wanted to see if you had finally gotten your brain and realized that you won't have children, because bloody old Will here is a eunuch."

"Jack," Anamaria said, rolling her eyes again.

"CAPTAIN."

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"He isn't a eunuch."

"And you would know that...how?"

Elizabeth gave a giggle.

"You pirates," Governor Swann huffed.

"I'm terribly sorry we are a bad influence on your prissy little daughter here," Jack said, giving a wide smile.

"Anyway," Anamaria said, looking at Jack pointedly. "He didn't exactly have anything better to do."

"I do think that's an insult, Anamaria, dear," Jack said.

"Dear?" Will and Elizabeth said, both looking at him oddly.

"Erm," Jack said.

"He's a bit drunk," said Anamaria.

"Isn't he always?" Governor Swann said.

"Well, now, that's one thing you've gotten right in my presence," Jack slurred, doing this completely on purpose.

"Jack—"

"—Captain—"

"Please, would you shut up for a bit?" Anamaria asked rather pleadingly. Jack shut up at the look on her face.

"Will," Anamaria said, turning toward him. "May i...talk to you for a second?"

"What about?"

She coughed loudly.

"Oh," Will said, catching on quickly.

**Authors Note:** Ah, well, will you look at that! I've finally updated, even though it took me like, a month to do it...well, you can all kill me later, after you read this ever-short chapter. Which you probably have if you've already gotten here, but that's not the point.

**williz: **Wow, I love you so much!! You always give me positive feedback, and I love it! Also, I know my chapters are so very short, but I'm trying not to do that anymore. I'll tell Mary and Ana, although it's been like a month...oops.

**iLuVLotR: **If I did put a scene with Orlando Bloom and how fabulous he looks with his shirt off I would be really disgusted with myself, and you know that, Mary. But I love you anyway!!

**VirginVixen666: **I know, I know they're too short. And you'd better still love me!! Otherwise I will mourn in self pity for a long time, and you'll feel so sorry.

**storylvr6: **You should go chuck the silly hairdryer out the window and be all like, "I LOATHE YOU TOO!"

**Lykosdracos: **I LOVE YOU!! You are so great in giving me pretty reviews that I shall cherish forever.

**DracoIsMyLOVER: **You'd better not want to see something like that! Although I'll never do it!!


	10. Dreams

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: I HATE DOING THIS!! And by 'this' I mean I hate saying over and over again that I don't own anything of POTC, so really, stop bugging me.

Chapter 10: **Dreams**

**WILL**

"Well?" Will asked. "What's the matter?"

"Jack is the matter," Anamaria whispered quietly, peering over at him.

"What?"

"He's been having dreams…and I think they're about Barbossa."

"But," Will said, hesitating a little.

"I know," Anamaria interrupted.

"He's dead," Will finished.

"Apparently, he's still alive to Jack," Anamaria whispered, looking quickly over at the _Pearl_'s captain again.

"Well, then," Will said, looking a bit confused. "What do you propose we do?

"First I need to know if my theory is right," Anamaria said. "But how do we get it out of him?"

**JACK**

"Jack?" Will said tentatively.

Jack grunted in response; he was examining one of Will's swords not unlike the one he had made for Norrington (gold filigree and all).

"_Jack._"

"What?"

"Anamaria says there's been something going on with you lately—"

"She WHAT?" Jack said, snapping to attention.

"Well," Will's voice was rather small. (A/N: although I can't exactly imagine his voice being small…)"Just little things, you know, like being a tad…"

"A tad what?"

"Unlike yourself."

Jack began banging the sword around in frustration. Will leapt forward and rescued his creation from being dented.

"Unlike myself, mumble mumble, load of mumble, stupid, disgusting, filthy little mumble," Jack mumbled to himself as he stalked out of the blacksmith's shop. Will sighed to himself. Anamaria was going to kill him.

**A/N:** Okay, right, I know this chapter is incredibly short and that you'd all like to kill me either because a. my story really stinks or because it's way too short for your liking. But please review anyway?

**My Stupid Sister: **Well, deal with it.

**Holliday1081: **Oh, I love you!! Not only are you telling me that my story doesn't completely disgust you, but you're giving me pointers too…the problem is, I've already gotten my next few chapters written, but I will definitely try doing some of that. Even though I'll probably fail miserably, but that's okay.

**Lykosdracos:** I love you!!!

**williz:** Erm, this chapter is incredibly short…I'm going to go cringe about it now.

**VirginVixen-666:** You are a nutcase, but that's why I love you so much.

**Araminta Ditch:** I love you too!

**Rose Noire le Mort:** Thank you. (huge grin)

"**Fearlessfreak-hater"**—Look, don't think I don't know who you are. It's Enchanted Ivy, right? Anyway, I don't want to keep this going. We're not in first grade, or for that matter, kindergarten. I just have some comments and then that will be the end of this. First of all, you asked for the flame kind of, because you said that you loved flames. Second…people would like my story more? You should read my reviews before you say that. And thirdly, I never said you couldn't turn Harry evil; I just said that it doesn't really sound like Harry, so fix your own characters before you complain about mine. The last thing that I will probably ever say to you: I have a plot. I have different characters that I have not yet brought into the story. So worry about your own story now, and don't flame mine for the heck of it.


	11. Now You've Done It

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

Disclaimer: ARRRRRGGGHH!!!!!!!!! I do not own anything, not the characters, not the plot (of the movie, of course, I do own this one), and not, sadly, the actors.

Chapter 11: **Now You've Done It**

**ANAMARIA**

"So tell me," Jack said, breathing very heavily. "You did this…why?"

"I've told you!" Anamaria shouted, patience waning quickly now.

"So tell me again!?" Jack was shouting also.

"Because!" Anamaria bellowed, completely fed up and now only giving two-syllable answers.

Gibbs was looking at the two of them like he was watching a tennis match, his eyes going back and forth so quickly that his pupil almost appeared blurred.

"Because why?" Jack's voice upped a few decibels.

"You idiot!" Gibbs leaped in; eyes this time pinned directly on Jack and Jack alone.

"What?"

"She told Will because she was concerned!"

Jack gave Gibbs a blank stare. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"She cares." Blink, blink.

"Look, Anamaria," Jack snarled suddenly. "I can take care of myself."

Walking out of the room, the door slammed behind him. Loudly.

Anamaria sat down hard on the cabin floor, eyes sparkling suspiciously. About to cry, perhaps?

"He's a stupid git, Anamaria," Gibbs said after a while. He had never seen her like this; she looked lonely and sad. Then the warrior girl mask she always wore snapped back into place.

**JACK**

Jack looked guiltily at the cabin door leading to the room he and Anamaria shared at the current time.

"He's a stupid git, Anamaria," he heard Gibbs say.

No response from her.

He waited a little bit, leaning against the doorframe.

"Gibbs?" he heard her say finally.

"Yes?"

"Does he…I mean—"

"He does," Gibbs said quietly.

"Are you sure? Sometimes I get the impression that he doesn't care at all."

Gibbs let out a snort.

"I hope he knows it now, too," he said.

"What?"

"He's standing right outside this door, listening."

Jack froze.

"You best come in right now, Jack," Gibbs called. "And see the state you've put Anamaria in."

If he hadn't frozen before, then he was an ice-cube now.

"I told you he doesn't care," Anamaria said.

"JACK SPARROW!" Gibbs hollered, ignoring her completely.

"That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow," Jack said automatically. Oops.

"See?" Gibbs said triumphantly.

There were footsteps. Jack looked around, trying to spot the source of the sound.

The door opened and Anamaria stepped out, eyes still sparkling suspiciously.

"Captain?" Anamaria said quietly, looking down onto the floor.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to know one thing."

"Fire away," Jack said, uneasily thinking of what she might say.

"That night we first met in Tortuga," Anamaria began. Jack looked up sharply.

"What about it?"

She turned away, not wanting him to see the expressions on her face.

"Why did you offer me this chance?"

"Well," Jack said, rather grateful at the moment that she'd turned around, because he was shifting from foot to foot, giving the appearance that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was nervous. "You were young and innocent. Also, you were good with a sword." He almost choked at the sound of his own words. It was all a lie, everything he had just said. He heard a small, shaky breath, and turned around to see Anamaria walking quickly away from him, wiping her face on the sleeve of her shirt as she went.

Jack banged his head onto the doorframe. Now he'd done it. He'd made Anamaria cry.

"Now you've done it," Gibbs said from inside the room.

"That has already been established, Gibbs," Jack said, seriously annoyed with himself.

"The lass won't be okay in the morning, if that's what you're hoping for," Gibbs added helpfully.

"I know," Jack said.

**A/N:** OH, LOOK AT ME AND MY BAD SELF!!!! Well, not really. But this is the longest chapter I've done so far, and that isn't really saying anything, but I'm very happy. :), and I hope you are too. REVIEW, REVIEW!!! I live for those things.

**Lykosdracos:** YES!! Not dead enough. Yeah, loads of rum _would_ probably do the trick.

**Holliday1081: **Well, about this foreshadowing thing…obviously I can't tell you flat out if I am or not, but I'm really bad at this thing. It's like I'm attempting (and failing) to be a mini J.K. Rowling, whose books practically always foreshadow.

Oh, did you really think that was a perfect description? I thought it was a little OOC, but then I guess I can't be perfect, can I? Yep, feistyAnamaria.

**williz:** I LOVE YOU FOR REVIEWING!!!!

**Araminta Ditch:** WHAT?? How could you have possibly lost it??? That stinks!! But, you say, you have a better one? That makes me happier.


	12. Tactless

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Oh, just get away from me. You all know that I don't own anything of POTC, although I'd really like to own the actors…

**A/N:** I've added a new character to this…! I must credit the use of her name to Patricia C. Wrede, author of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. Have trouble with the pronunciation? It's SIM-OR-EEN.

Chapter 12: **Tactless**

**JACK**

Jack woke the next morning, got up, and walked onto the deck of the _Pearl_. He wondered how Elizabeth and Will were doing, though he didn't really want to know **what** they were doing. Then he remembered what had happened last night with Anamaria.

As if answering his thoughts, Anamaria herself clomped on deck. His eyes followed from her face—now a complete mask—to her feet, where her bag lay.

"Anamaria?" he said, looking at her. She picked up the bag and marched off onto the Port Royal dock in answer.

"ANAMARIA!" he yelled, running after her.

**ANAMARIA**

She was walking farther and farther away from Jack, and her heart was screaming out in protest. But her brain told her otherwise; to walk away and never love someone like him again.

"Freeze!"

She spun around and looked automatically to her right and left, where a guard on each end was running straight for her. She smiled to herself, and tried to ignore the fact that Jack was still calling after her. Anamaria looked at the two stupid guards. Didn't they know anything? Didn't they know _never to sandwich a target?_ Obviously not.

She stepped forward a split second before they would have hit her. Instead, they ran into each other.

Anamaria resumed her walking.

By then, she didn't care what was going to happen to her.

**WILL**

Will paced around his room nervously. Elizabeth was watching him all the while.

"So then what happened?" Elizabeth asked him gently.

"He took off," Will answered, thoughts on if Jack was sitting there fuming right now. He felt so stupid.

"Well," Elizabeth said carefully. "You were rather tactless."

"How?"

"For one thing, you flat out told him what Anamaria said." She paused, thinking. "That's another thing, too."

"What is?"

"You told him that Anamaria was the one who said it."

Will stopped pacing and sat down next to Elizabeth, and she immediately leaned on him. He gave a small but troubled smile.

**JACK**

"Anamaria!" he yelled again for the umpteenth time as he pushed through the crowd, looking for a sign of her jet black hair and dark skin.

But there was none.

"Captain!" puffed Gibbs, running after him.

Jack sat down, slumped against a wall.

"Captain?" Gibbs repeated, this time as a question. Jack didn't reply, still slumped over and staring at a random spot in front of him.

"What's this?" a cool voice came from behind Jack, and he reluctantly looked up. He was so startled that had he been standing up, he would have fallen over. There about three feet behind Jack stood a tall, dark haired woman with dazzling blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a lovely smile on her face. She stepped forward, revealing her dark purple dress, not unlike the one that Elizabeth had been wearing before they had gotten stuck on that godforsaken spit of land.

"What?" said Gibbs, completely confused.

"The legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, sulking about a woman?" she continued, her British accent showing through. She was obviously ignoring Gibbs.

"She's no ordinary woman," Jack growled, eyes glinting either of tears or anger. Or both.

"No, I didn't say that," the woman said, fiddling with the sword at her side.

"What d'you want?" Gibbs inquired sharply.

"What we all, want," she said, smiling.

She held her hand out to Jack, as if to help him up. He acted like it wasn't there.

"My name is Cimorene," she said, hand still extended. He realized her meaning and shook it.

"It was charming meeting you, really," Jack said. "But really, I must find her, so if you'll excuse me."

A quick hand shot out and stopped him from moving.

"That's what I'm here for," Cimorene smile growing wider.

**A/N:** Oh, lookie at me! Another sort-of long chapter. After that comment from nagem4, I thought a little bit more about where I start/end my chapters, so let me know if I should make them longer or if you're just pleased with the length right now. Or if you think this fanfiction is utterly stupid. I can understand that.

Oh dear. I seem to be losing all of my reviewers. So tell me your opinions on this chapter! I did update faster than usual, though. But why must random people say that they like my story and then never review again?

Just ignore me. I'm complaining again.

Oh, those of you who are fans of the Lord of the Rings—although why you would be in the POTC category, I don't know, unless you happen to be a fan of both—will notice that Cimorene said "What's this?" just like what Arwen said to Aragorn…I had just watched the Fellowship of the Ring when I was coming up with this chapter.

**Araminta Ditch:** I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! Yeah, I read your teaser thingy. I loved it. :)

**anon:** Have I really? I was thinking that Gibbs was kind of OOC on that one, because he was doing the whole "I'm going to defend you!" thing, and I just couldn't really imagine him saying those things. Thanks for reviewing!

**williz**: I keep trying to come up with another little rhyme for you. :) Oddly enough, I also keep failing miserably.


	13. Lost

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own anything. Except mybeloved plot and character, Cimorene.

**A/N: **Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated! I'm actually supposed to be doing a science project right now, but that's okay…

Chapter 13: **Lost**

**JACK**

"Do you have any idea where she is?" Jack walked quickly behind Cimorene. He was letting his desperation finally show through; she was sounding more and more panicked with each word that came out of his mouth. Cimorene smiled mysteriously to herself, not answering any of his recent ramblings.

Gibbs puffed along behind the two of them, attempting to catch up abut falling behind just the same.

"Where is she?" Jack said feverishly, practically bouncing with every step he took; he had that much adrenaline, that much fear locked up inside of him, and for the first time, he honestly didn't know what to do with it.

"Oh, really," Cimorene said, still walking and not even glancing once at him. "You'll never get anywhere if you keep acting like this." She turned to him, and saw the state he was in. she softened, but just the tiniest bit.

Gibbs was giving them both questioning looks about their sanity, as if they were positively just going to be the end of them all.

"She's fine, Jack," Cimorene whispered, like saying it softer was going to make everything better.

And yet Jack still had enough of his right mind to correct her and say, "Captain."

"I call no one 'captain'," Cimorene replied, walking faster now. "But trust me on this one…Anamaria is fine, I promise. And my promise is one to be taken seriously."

**ANAMARIA**

She flew down the street, not caring and not even noticing, really, the looks that she was attracting. And in all honesty, there was something to stare about.

Here she was, Anamaria thought, putting herself in the shoes of an outsider as her feet moved even faster down the road. Such a strange, mysterious young woman with tears streaming down her face and an unnaturally fast pace banging her way down the street, trying to hide her face under her hat and block it from view. She must be so unwelcome, with her tall frame, large feet, and hideous looks.

And yet the people from whom the looks she was attracting didn't think her looks hideous at all, or think that she had large feet. They all looked at her, shook their heads, and carried on with their lives, completely oblivious to the story behind the image she was portraying to them.

Anamaria stopped abruptly, her bag hitting her as she did. There it was. The only place she had ever felt safe. And it was still exactly like she remembered, every brick in its place, every pebble on the path from the fence to the door was the same color, in the same place.

She gave the smallest shadow of a smile. A shadow because she left him, and right now he was probably sitting there with a bottle of rum, saying "Oh, well, I'll just wait for the next girl to come by and be attracted to me."

But she, as you know, was wrong.

**CIMORENE**

She glanced over and sighed. Jack was simply falling apart; he wasn't drinking rum and almost falling off his seat like Gibbs was. He was completely ignoring Giselle and Scarlet, who were trying to lure him upstairs (to no avail) and simply refused to respond to anything anyone said to him.

"Oh, Jack," Giselle purred, petting him on the shoulder. "Come on, lets get you up—"

"Jack," Scarlet whispered at the same time while playing with the beads in his hair. "Oh, Jack, my darling, where in the world have you been these—"

She stopped abruptly. Both Jack and Gibbs looked up: there was a blade at the bottom of her chin. Cimorene's eyes drifted up along the line of the sword, but stopped halfway. The rest of the blade was concealed in shadow.

"Get up," a voice said coolly. The sound was nonchalant, but made it clear that the speaker was not to be trifled with. Scarlet rose silently, and Gisele's hand was sneaking quietly before—

"Hands in the air." The blade flicked toward Gisele and she acquiesced.

Jack suddenly spun around and stood up, shocking the living daylights out of Gisele and Scarlet.

"Anamaria?"

Cimorene settled back into her chair, a look of satisfaction crossing her features. Maybe this would wake him up a little.

The blade disappeared, and Cimorene assumed, the person to whom the voice belonged along with it.

**ANAMARIA**

She fled. Once again, people passing her stared blatantly at her (most were drunk, anyway) and shaking their heads as if to say "Well, serves you right." She completely ignored them.

"Anamaria!" and there he was, chasing after her. She could hear his footsteps; he was catching up. She urged her feet to go faster.

Turning suddenly, she dashed down a dark alleyway and slammed herself onto a door hidden in the shadows.

Her breathing came more regularly, and she wiped tears that she didn't know she'd cried off of her face. She had lost him. But, she asked herself, was that really what she wanted?

**A/N:** Yes! Finally, I decided to update. Happy points to me! Okay, so I'm just a little bit hyper right now, and I'm sorry that I've taken so long, but I hope you've enjoyed this little chapter.

**DramaQueensRule: **That is wonderful! I'm really excited, now. Yeah, my characters _are_ doing things, but I'm always afraid that someone is going to come along and go, "This is the stupidest thing I have ever read. What is this person thinking?" And then I'll feel ashamed and go and hide in a little corner. But thanks for reviewing—it's really appreciated. And makes me happy!

**Holliday1081:** Yes, agreed! Perfect relationships are completely boring and you just think, "That is so not real." Because it isn't! You've got to have at least _some _conflicts; otherwise it's just not normal. Yeah, Anamaria and Jack would probably have a few little spouts often enough… :)

Yeah…on the topic of men? Sometimes we've just got to think for them. :)

**Araminta Ditch:** Thank you for sticking by me since practically the first chapter of my story! I'm really happy that you're reviewing, and don't say that! Anything you're going to come out with for your new fanfiction is going to be absolutely _brilliant_. Think happy.

**williz:** still trying on this rhymes thing…still failing. :)


	14. Don't Let Me Go

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Finally, I can own something! No, not POTC or the actors and stuff, but this plot and Cimorene. Yay!

**A/N: **Am finally caught up with all my schoolwork! Okay, so not really, but I'm just trying to make myself look good. :)

Chapter 14: **Don't Let Me Go**

**ANAMARIA**

She fled. Once again, people passing her stared blatantly at her (most were drunk, anyway) and shaking their heads as if to say "Well, serves you right." She completely ignored them.

"Anamaria!" and there he was, chasing after her. She could hear his footsteps; he was catching up. She urged her feet to go faster.

Turning suddenly, she dashed down a dark alleyway and slammed herself onto a door hidden in the shadows.

Her breathing came more regularly, and she wiped tears that she didn't know she'd cried off of her face. She had lost him. But, she asked herself, was that really what she wanted?

Anamaria waited for about thirty seconds and then quietly slipped out of her hiding spot.

"Anamaria."

She spun around—right into Jack Sparrow's open arms.

Anamaria kicked herself mentally for allowing herself to be caught. She started to twist herself out of his grasp, but she looked up into his eyes and realized that he wasn't ever going to let her go.

**JACK**

He looked down at her. She was the one thing he couldn't let go of. During all these years he had taught himself to not latch onto things, to not care about things or people as much as he should. That would be his weakness, and probably the cause of his downfall.

But with Anamaria, everything was different. He had never met anyone like her; she actually meant something to him, and wasn't like any of the other women he knew, like Gisele and Scarlet. She had a mind of her own.

Most importantly, she seemed to make everything possible. He was finally giving in to it. What could he do to stop it? He loved her, plain and simple.

Then there were footsteps behind him, slow and evenly paced. Jack placed himself protectively in front of Anamaria.

"Jack?" came her voice.

He motioned for her to be quiet. They were not alone.

"Jack," she said again.

"What/" he hissed, peering around in the dark.

"Nobody's there."

"Someone is there," Jack insisted, grabbing her wrist and holding it tightly, as if she was going to try and escape.

"Jack," her voice was more urgent this time. He turned around to face her.

"Jack," Anamaria began, looking him those eyes that were so bottomless. She gave an involuntary shiver and continued. "I know about those dreams you're having."

"Dreams?" jack said, pretending that he didn't know what she was talking about. But Anamaria knew jack all too well for him to able to lie to her and for her to not know.

"The dreams, Jack," she told him. "the dreams that you've been having about Barbossa."

He stopped cold. She had hit the bulls-eye at her first time up to shoot. He knew exactly what she was talking about, and she knew it.

This was what he had feared all of these years; now Anamaria held the ace.

But this was different somehow—with Anamaria, this felt safe. With Anamaria, everything was safe.

**A/N:** I hope that the wait was worth it for this chapter! I'm really enjoying your feedback, so please give leave me more reviews!

**StarSheep: **Thanks for your review! I really hope that you liked this little chapter deelymabob.

**DramaQueensRule:** Heehee! I'll be sure to hide in a corner with lots of chocolate, next time. AND COFFEE! I am completely addicted to coffee. And the corner has to be pink, too. :)

**williz: **Yeah, well…hmmm, trying to come up with your rhyme here. Leave me reviews mean or nice, with lots of little hopper mice! Oh, I give up.

**RoseNoireduMort: **Thank you for your review! It makes me really happy to see that people are actually reading this. :)

**Holliday1081:** Cimorene is really a crazy person, isn't she? If she can get Anamaria into a dress, she is capable of a lot of other things, and that's all I have to say about her. :)


	15. I Warned You

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Am actually owning something now! (excited look) I own Cimorene and my plot, but not Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom…which makes me sad.

**A/N: **Grr, I have finals next week. Yuck.

Chapter 15: **I Warned You**

But this was different somehow—with Anamaria, this felt safe. With Anamaria, everything was safe.

He nodded slowly, his eyes wary.

Anamaria could see it happening in his eyes; those dark pools of mystery were starting to realize that yes, you had to be cautious and suspicious of some people. But others you needed to trust. You just needed to know which people belonged to which category.

"Well," Anamaria began, still looking straight into the bottomless eyes and wanting to faint right there. She was standing. "I know how they're affecting you, Jack. I know you regret killing Barbossa, even if it's just the tiniest bit, because I can tell when I look at you that you know you had to do it, but that doesn't change the face that you actually _killed_ him."

Jack shook his head, a little amused; it was amazing how well this lady pirate knew him. His eyes were drifting from hers, so she placed her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her and gave him her I-am-getting-my-way look.

"I am not going to lose you to anyone, Jack, especially not to the ghost of Barbossa."

**ELIZABETH**

"Elizabeth," Will said tentatively, taking her hand and holding it as if it were the most precious gem on the earth.

"Yes, Will?" Elizabeth answered sleepily, burying her head into his shoulder and pulling up the covers so her arm wouldn't freeze off. She felt so warm and content. It was like this entire night had all been a dream.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, looking down at her. "You need to go back."

"Back?" Elizabeth's head shot up. "Go back where?"

"Back to your house," Will said, a small smile lighting up his features. He really didn't want to leave her—didn't want to let her go was more like it. But then the Governor and the Commodore would have an even worse impression of him, despite what Elizabeth might say.

"Hmph," Elizabeth answered, ignoring his last comment.

"Come on," Will said, helping her up. "Let's get you home."

**JACK**

"Get up," said a voice above him. Jack groaned, submerging his head under his pillow to escape the harsh glares of the sun streaming through his window that was conveniently located above his head.

"Why?" Jack mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow.

Wait. Not his pillow…

"In case you don't remember," Anamaria said, reading his mind, "we're at Cimorene's house."

Jack sat up and stared sleepy-eyed at Anamaria. She was dressed in Cimorene's clothes—which meant a dress.

Despite the fact that Cimorene seemed to be rather like Anamaria, she was very much into long, dark dresses, and had apparently outfitted her in one. Jack's eyes went up and down, trying to understand the concept of Anamaria in a dress and liking it very much.

"Well don't look at me like that," she said, turning away from him. He grabbed her wrist and she faced him again.

"I like it," he said rather sincerely with no disgusting meaning intended. It was sort of sweet, so she rewarded him with one of her smiles reserved just for him.

If Jack had been standing up, he would have fallen over. Even her smallest gesture affected him. He shook his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into. She saw this, knew exactly what he had been thinking, and then walked out the door, closing it with a crisp click.

**ELIZABETH**

Elizabeth bounced up a little as the carriage went over a bumpy part in the road. Will steadied her with his hand, and she flinched, drawing herself away from him. He took his hand back, unsure of why she had done what she did.

"Elizabeth," he whispered. She ignored him, looking out onto the streets. There was a little girl running out to meet one of her friends. Her father was telling her to be careful crossing the street, and to be safe. She gave a small smile. The little girl's father seemed to be the opposite of her own. That father cared.

A sudden jolt threw Elizabeth forward and Will immediately reached out and pulled her back. To him. She threw him off of her and stepped off of the carriage, almost tripping as she landed. The coachman had already left the carriage and was kneeling down over something. Elizabeth hurried forward and stopped dead when she caught a glimpse of what the coachman had been leaning across.

It was the little girl. The same one who had been warned to be careful in crossing the street.

**A/N:** Well, there you go! Another chapter! I wrote this such a long time ago, so I'm thinking that I've improved a little bit at writing. Please review! It'll make me happy.

**Holliday1081:** Well, school is about to butt out of my life pretty soon! Except I do have finals next week.

**Writerofdarkness6:** Yes, those papers were pretty stupid. And those speeches are going to be even stupider.

**williz:** I absolutely loooove hopper mice! They are super cute. Your rhyme was very nice! I will remember it for forever. :)

**DramaQueensRule: **Oh, I absolutely love confetti! We were having a party in Drama class a while ago (our student teacher was leaving) and then we had this bag of compressed confetti and as soon as we opened it, it exploded in this huge blob of confetti. Then I had some in my hair all day, and it was great fun.


	16. Sod Off

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Okay…once upon a time, these used to be kind of fun. Once again, I own nothing besides the plot and Cimorene.

**A/N: **Sorry I haven't updated in so long—but then, I didn't get that many reviews. Should I keep going? Anyway, I had a reason—I was in China…again to visit my relatives.

Chapter 16: **Sod Off**

**CIMORENE**

Cimorene glanced back and forth between Anamaria and Jack, extremely amused. The two of them had been sneaking looks at each other all morning. The fact that Cimorene and forced Anamaria into one of her dresses had not helped at all.

"So," Cimorene said, breaking the so-called ice and diving right in while innocently twirling her fork around her plate.

"So?" Anamaria questioned, shuffling uncomfortably in the dress that Cimorene had chosen for her. "So what? What is there to be so-ing about?"

"Well," Cimorene continued, still spinning her fork around with an innocent, wide-eyed look. "I just wanted to know…"

"Know what?" Jack injected after burning his tongue on some sort of Cimorene-concoction which made him seem particularly grumpy.

"What," Cimorene leaned for ward. "Happened. During. Last. Ni—"

Anamaria started choking on her drink, trying not to let it spew onto out of her mouth onto Jack and failing just the same. Jack ducked and banged his head on Cimorene's large table.

"What?" Anamaria shouted at the same time that Jack said "Ouch!".

Cimorene giggled.

**ELIZABETH**

She was motionless and numb as Will led her away from the scene of the small girl, who had been proclaimed dead. Her shock of the carriage and the yelling had forced her to turn her head—too quickly—and then, of curse, she was hit full-force by the horses, which rolled over her with the carriage. Elizabeth was so out of it that she didn't even bother to shake his hands off of her shoulders.

"It was an accident," Will said soothingly, trying to calm her down. He was very worried about her—and she knew that—but this didn't stop her from getting annoyed with him.

"I know it was a bloody accident!" Elizabeth cried shrilly, pushing away from him and breaking down completely.

"Elizabeth," Will said, moving closer to her, pleading her with those eyes of his. (A/N: I know of nobody who could resist that). "Elizabeth, please—"

"NO!" she hiccupped. She knew that she was being very immature, but she didn't care anymore. "Sod off, Will."

Elizabeth turned around, drew in a shaky breath, and started walking home.

**JACK**

"Excuse us," Jack said bluntly, getting up from his seat and pulling Anamaria up with him. Cimorene arched her thin eyebrows at him and gave him a quirky smile. Anamaria shot her and apologetic glance and glared at Jack as he pushed her into the kitchen and closed the door. She rounded on him, eyes flashing.

"What are you trying to pull?" Anamaria hissed, rubbing her arm where Jack's finger marks were white and completely noticeable against her dark skin. In any normal situation, Jack would have been extremely sorry about hurting her. In fact, he wouldn't have done such a thing in the first place. But Jack was tired, and through with playing games.

"Who is Cimorene?" Jack asked.

Anamaria froze; her hand stopped rubbing the finger marks which weren't fading.

"Cimorene…she…" Anamaria began slowly.

"Is who?" Jack said, sounding completely exasperated. "Where is she from? How did she come here? And how in the world does she know you?"

"I knew it!" came an extremely familiar voice. Two seconds later, Cimorene appeared and stooped by the doorway with a grin.

"First things first," she continued, examining her flawless nails.

"I'm Anamaria's half sister."

"You…" Jack stuttered, something he rarely did. "Um, you are…er…what?"

"I'm her half sister," Cimorene stated again, as if it was a "duh" thing that everyone should know about.

Jack was motionless. He realized that he did not know Anamaria. Sure, he could finish her thoughts and he loved her; more than anything, even his rum. (A/N: Now that is saying something). What he didn't know were things about Ana's past: where was she born, and also, what was her childhood like? He knew absolutely nothing about her before the day that he had met her in Tortuga. (A/N: Should I elaborate on that in future chapters? I have some ideas about their first meeting…) he'd never really thought about what Anamaria had been like before: he was occupied enough dealing with her present self, as she had that spark that most women Jack had ever met didn't. Anamaria was willing to fight for what she wanted and didn't like being pushed around. As Jack had experienced, she pushed right back.

"Helloooo? Earth to Jack Sparrow!" Cimorene bellowed, smacking him on the head causing the beads in his hair to rattle.

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," he replied immediately, snapping out of his thoughts to find Cimorene poised with her hand in the air, ready to whack him again.

"You can put your hand down now," Jack told her hastily, rubbing his head. Cimorene lowered her hand, looking a bit unsure.

"Anamaria," Jack said, turning around to face her and look her in the eye. "I think it's time for you to tell me about your past."

**A/N:** Another chapter, finished! But if I'm going to do more, I don't know.

**DramaQueensRule:** Thank you for being so happy and supportive! It makes me very cheery. Anyway, I wouldn't know about getting glitter out of my hair…but confetti is pretty hard to get out of your hoody pockets, I know that. I hope that this update is longer! It sure looks like it, anyhow.

**Williz:** I know! It sounds like something I would do…completely forget about doing what my parents told me to do. :)

**AramintaDitch:** Wow has it been a long time since you've reviewed! It makes me happy that you're back and at it again. I'll definitely take a look at your combined story…it sounds awesome.


	17. Utterly Useless

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Like I've been saying forever, I don't own anything related to POTC. I do, however, own Cimorene and this here plot.

**A/N: **Haha, am actually updating again! Happiness points for me. Hoping that you like this next chapter! Hey…the last four sentences all started with 'h'. Okay, moving on now.

**Chapter 17: Utterly Useless**

"Anamaria," Jack said, turning around to face her and look her in the eye. "I think it's time for you to tell me about your past."

**WILL**

"She could have been killed!" seethed Governor Swann, placing a protective arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. Normally, she would have responded with a roll of the eyes and defend Will, but she was still getting over the shock of what she'd just seen, especially with the small girl's father.

"It was just that—" Will started, sending Elizabeth a pleading look (A/N: Don't know how anyone could resist that…)

"I should have known the day that Elizabeth told me the truth! You are nothing but trouble, and she is much better off with the Commodore. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have some questions that need answers to and I would like to discuss them with Elizabeth." He eyed Will with penetrating stare. "_Alone_."

The door slammed shut, leaving Will outside and, quite literally, by himself.

**CIMORENE**

"Well," Anamaria said with a shaky laugh. "Where am I supposed to start?"

"For starters," Jack began, extremely relieved that she had chosen to answer his questions without starting up an argument. "Where were you born?"

Anamaria dipped her head down, her dark hair falling like a curtain in front of her face. She tucked it behind her ear and looked up at Jack, something causing her eyes to sparkle.

"I was born…"

"We were born in Tortuga," said Cimorene, saving Anamaria from answering Jack's question.

"Our mother was one of the prostitutes there. I believe you know that her sister took up the same profession," Cimorene plunged on, giving Anamaria a look.

"What?" Jack said, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Gisele," Anamaria supplied. "Gisele was her sister."

"So…" Jack said, eyes narrowing as he attempted to process this information. "Does that make Gisele _your aunt_?"

"I suppose so," Anamaria said. "Half-aunt, really. Or something along the lines of it."

A look of horror struck Jack's face.

"_I slept with your aunt_?" He said, looking a bit disturbed.

Cimorene coughed, smirking a little behind her hand.

"I certainly hope not," she said, eyeing Jack with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's a feisty one," Jack said, playing along.

"Could we move on to a more appropriate topic, please?" Anamaria said, looking very odd. Jack grinned.

"Oh, honestly, Ana," Cimorene said, rolling her eyes. "You know that Jack is completely and totally smitten with you."

Jack and Anamaria blushed and looked away from each other. They were both very red.

"But," Cimorene continued, ignoring both of them. "Back to the topic at hand: our past. After our mother had the two of us, she…er…"

"She abandoned us," Anamaria said softly, face turning back to its natural color.

"Right," Cimorene nodded, unable to say so. "Afterwards, we were left in an orphanage of Tortuga—the only one. It was a terrible place. So much drinking, fighting…just a bad place to be in general, and I was only five. Ana was almost three. You can imagine the kind of people there—both Anamaria and I were…er…taken advantage of quite a few times, but there was nobody there to stop them—" at this, Jack looked extremely angry—"and I was only ten—Ana was about eight—when someone forced the first taste of rum down our throats. Nobody was there to protect us—for the most part, we were alone, without a proper guardian."

Jack stared in wonder at the both of them, but mostly at Anamaria. Growing up in such a terrible place, how had she managed to turn out the way that she did? Why had her mother abandoned her? And had she tried to talk to her mother—

"We've contacted our mother since she left us," Anamaria said, looking down. "We had to talk to her, and it wasn't very pretty."

"That's an understatement," Cimorene injected.

"Tell me. I'll understand," Jack pressed.

"Oh no," said Ana. "You don't know the meaning of a messed up family until you've heard about ours."

"My family is pretty, um…_unusual_, shall we call it," Jack said.

FLASHBACK

"So," breathed a pale skinned, dark haired girl with silvery-blue eyes, looking up at the familiar house of towering walls of red bricks, each carefully placed to achieve the haunted mansion look. A black, spiky gate guarded the house, with a few Dobermans thrown in for good measure. (A/N: anyone remembering this house?)

The two girls were young—barely around the ages of seventeen and nineteen. They had come in search of the woman to whom the house belonged.

The other girl, with deep brown eyes and even darker skin fished two rusty old fashioned keys from her tattered coat pocket.

"Reckon these will still work?" she whispered, fingering the two keys delicately as if they would snap like celery if too much pressure was placed upon them.

"I'm sure of it," replied the pale girl of nineteen.

"All right then. Here it goes." The younger dark haired girl named Anamaria squeaked, inserting the larger and heavier key into the black lock that belonged to the gate. The huge black dogs growled, showing a mouthful of gleaming, sharp teeth and snarling. The older, Cimorene, threw a milky white dog-bone over the tall, prickly fence and the dogs quickly scampered over to it.

"That had better keep them occupied," she whispered, peering through the black bars of the gate. "We spent all of our savings on that stupid thing."

The key was swiveled around in the lock by Anamaria, and with a loud _sproing_, the gate swung open. Anamaria pocketed the key, the frayed pocket almost letting it fall through to the ground.

The two girls walked cautiously down the pebbled path leading to the great ominous door painted a deep cherry red. They stopped immediately in front of the door.

"Well," said Cimorene, raising her fist. "Here it goes." She knocked on the door five times as Anamaria pummeled the doorbell feverishly. They waited for a few minutes and tried again.

Over and over this happened, until they realized that nobody was going to answer the door. Anamaria and Cimorene looked at each other. They both knew that using their key, the only thing that their mother had left them, to get inside the house was the way that neither of them wanted to enter. And they both knew that their mother hated opening doors-usually they were o the selling-things type. Cimorene and Anamaria were obviously not looking to sell things.

"No choice then," Cimorene sighed, nodding at Anamaria. "Go for it."

Anamaria nodded also and tried to insert the small silver key into the lock of the cherry red door. At first it seemed that the key would not fit, but then it slid in and Ana turned it cautiously, trying not to make any noises. Cimorene seized the doorknob and twisted. The door swung open a few feet, creaking a little as it did so. She placed one foot inside. Her worn out shoe made a tiny squoosh-ing noise. Anamaria and Cimorene exchanged small, sad smiles. They were dirtying their mother's shiny, mirror-like wood floors, something that she had forbidden.

Finally, both of them were inside and the door was closed and locked as it had been only minutes ago. Before them sat a black, spindly staircase, going around and around, growing taller with every iron step. Though there was almost no light in the house that the pair of them could see, save for a pitiful green candle far away in what they assumed was the dining area with a teensy flame. They remembered the layout of the house well and knew that the stairs were only a few feet in front of them.

"Where d'you reckon she is?" Cimorene asked quietly, holding her breath.

"Bedroom?" Anamaria suggested, and gestured toward the staircase.

"As good a guess as any," Cimorene answered.

Hand in hand, they walked carefully up the spidery staircase single file, slowly leaving the flickering light of the small candle behind and plunging into darkness. Both Cimorene and Anamaria stumbled a few times, having only their feet and free hand to guide them, as the rickety staircase had a handrail on only one side. The journey seemed to last forever, until Anamaria's foot met not stair but some sort of squashy rug.

Again on this landing there was barely any light—just another one of the small green candles.

The two girls felt their way across the rough, peeling wall-papered walls to reach another large and ominous door, this one painted a dark purple. They had reached their mother's bedroom. Anamaria stuck her ear to the door and listened. There was a faint muttering coming out, and she pressed closer, beckoning Cimorene to do so also.

"Foul, smelly little persons who try to sell me things, as if I've got the money to spare for stupid chocolate covered cherries, not worth it, no, it's not—" a voice came, sharp and unrelenting. They had found their mother, but then—

"Drink some of this, m'lady; it'll ease your pain." A sweet, compelling voice. A maid, perhaps?

"No! There is no point, it won't help at all—ease my pain, ha!—as if anything would, and as for those selling people they gave my dogs some sort of toy to chew on, what if they—" there was a choking sound. Apparently, the maid had forced some of the liquid down her throat.

Putting on a fearless face, Anamaria pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a woman—dark haired and pale, like Cimorene—thrashing on a bed with squishy pillows, a goose feather-filled comforter and velvety sheets. Her eyes were rolling around in her head, spit was flying from her mouth as she spoke and her hair was a glossy sheen of knotted ropes. There was a film of sweat covering what they knew had once been a beautiful face. Now her eyes had lost their sparkle, her mouth had been twisted in an odd way, as if she had bitten down only moments ago on something sour. Her hair used to fall in wavy curtains of darkness down her back, but was now rumpled and bunched up under her head. They knew that yes, their mother had been pale, but this was a sickly kind of pale; it wasn't natural at all. It seemed that she hadn't moved from her bed in weeks, months even.

The maid, a pretty young girl with brilliant red hair that seemed to light up her face full of freckles paid no attention to Cimorene or Anamaria, assuming them to be more maids. She also seemed rather used to their mother's insane behavior, as if it was completely natural to act that way.

"Chantal, I need the—" the maid turned around, trying to balance some cups on a tray and restrain their mother at the same time. She turned around, spotted Anamaria and Cimorene, and promptly dropped the tray.

"Oh," she said faintly. "You…aren't Chantal."

This drew their mother's attention to them. Her eyes passed over Cimorene without any sign of recognition, but then her dull blue eyes settled on Anamaria, and they seemed to pop right out of her head.

"Yoou!" she howled, pointing an accusing finger at Anamaria, who was now cowering against Cimorene. "It's your fault! All yours! You wouldn't know that it's like to lose someone, no, you don't know what hardships I faced without him—you slimy little creature, on his way to the hospital to see your filth and you put some sort of spell on him—"

Anamaria looked frightened and confused. The maid suddenly had a lightbulb-above-the-head moment, grabbed both girls' arms, and steered them out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

"Look here, you two," the maid whispered, looking back into the room where more maids were rushing in. "Cimorene and Ana-Louise, right?"

"Anamaria," said Cimorene automatically.

"Whatever," the mad replied, brushing her hair off of her shoulders. "The point is, your mother—I knew her from school—thinks that Ana-Louise here"—Cimorene made a face—"killed your father. Certainly he died in an accident with some carriage or another, but in her mind she connected it with Ana-Mary's birth, since they were the same day. I've learned that she grew depressed, abandoned you in Tortuga, and became, in nicer words…er…mentally unstable. We all"—she gestured to her fellow maids—"have been here ever since, looking after both her and the house. She speaks of Ana-Louise often. But you, Cimorene, she's almost forgotten completely. When she's not screaming her lungs out, she's usually mourning her husband or cursing Ana-Louise."

"So…talking to her…" said Cimorene, looking uneasy. "Trying to calm her down…"

"Is useless," the maid finished firmly.

**A/N:** Look at me! The longest chapter yet, so I am going to celebrate today! If there are any typos (which happen to be one of my pet peeves) tell me please, because I was sort of watching Roswell while I was typing this…so I was distracted by a little something. (cough, cough, pretty boys, cough). Ahem, anyhow. Review please and tell me what you think!

**DramaQueensRule:** Thanks for reviewing again…it makes me happy. :) I absolutely love you and your nice, positive feedback. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Holliday1081**: Yeah…I'll get back to that eventually. :). This chapter is completely reserved for Ana's past, though.

**divabee/NagBunny:** I love you.


	18. I slept with your aunt?

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Like I've been saying forever, I don't own anything related to POTC. I do, however, own Cimorene and this here plot.

**A/N: **Haha, am actually updating again! Happiness points for me. Hoping that you like this next chapter! Hey…the last four sentences all started with 'h'. Okay, moving on now.

Actually, I lied. The reason why I haven't been updating is because—surprise!—nobody had reviewed as of that time, so then I got all grumpy and didn't update and then I completely forgot to up until now. Enjoy!

**Chapter 17: I slept with your aunt?**

"Anamaria," Jack said, turning around to face her and look her in the eye. "I think it's time for you to tell me about your past."

**WILL**

"She could have been killed!" seethed Governor Swann, placing a protective arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. Normally, she would have responded with a roll of the eyes and defend Will, but she was still getting over the shock of what she'd just seen, especially with the small girl's father.

"It was just that—" Will started, sending Elizabeth a pleading look (A/N: Don't know how anyone could resist that…)

"I should have known the day that Elizabeth told me the truth! You are nothing but trouble, and she is much better off with the Commodore. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have some questions that need answers to and I would like to discuss them with Elizabeth." He eyed Will with penetrating stare. "_Alone_."

The door slammed shut, leaving Will outside and, quite literally, by himself.

**CIMORENE**

"Well," Anamaria said with a shaky laugh. "Where am I supposed to start?"

"For starters," Jack began, extremely relieved that she had chosen to answer his questions without starting up an argument. "Where were you born?"

Anamaria dipped her head down, her dark hair falling like a curtain in front of her face. She tucked it behind her ear and looked up at Jack, something causing her eyes to sparkle.

"I was born…"

"We were born in Tortuga," said Cimorene, saving Anamaria from answering Jack's question.

"Our mother was one of the prostitutes there. I believe you know that her sister took up the same profession," Cimorene plunged on, giving Anamaria a look.

"What?" Jack said, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Gisele," Anamaria supplied. "Gisele was her sister."

"So…" Jack said, eyes narrowing as he attempted to process this information. "Does that make Gisele _your aunt_?"

"I suppose so," Anamaria said. "Half-aunt, really. Or something along the lines of that."

A look of horror struck Jack's face.

"_I slept with your aunt_?" He said, looking a bit disturbed.

Cimorene coughed, smirking a little behind her hand.

"I certainly hope not," she said, eyeing Jack with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's a feisty one," Jack said, playing along.

"Could we move on to a more appropriate topic, please?" Anamaria said, looking very odd. Jack grinned.

"Oh, honestly, Ana," Cimorene said, rolling her eyes. "You know that Jack is completely and totally smitten with you."

Jack and Anamaria blushed and looked away from each other. They were both very red.

"But," Cimorene continued, ignoring both of them. "Back to the topic at hand: our past. After our mother had the two of us, she…er…"

"She abandoned us," Anamaria said softly, face turning back to its natural color.

"Right," Cimorene nodded, unable to say so. "Afterwards, we were left in an orphanage of Tortuga—the only one. It was a terrible place. So much drinking, fighting…just a bad place to be in general, and I was only five. Ana was almost three. You can imagine the kind of people there—both Anamaria and I were…er…taken advantage of quite a few times, but there was nobody there to stop them—" at this, Jack looked extremely angry—"and I was only ten—Ana was about eight—when someone forced the first taste of rum down our throats. Nobody was there to protect us—for the most part, we were alone, without a proper guardian."

Jack stared in wonder at the both of them, but mostly at Anamaria. Growing up in such a terrible place, how had she managed to turn out the way that she did? Why had her mother abandoned her? And had she tried to talk to her mother—

"We've contacted our mother since she left us," Anamaria said, looking down. "We had to talk to her, and it wasn't very pretty."

"That's an understatement," Cimorene injected.

"Tell me. I'll understand," Jack pressed.

"Oh no," said Ana. "You don't know the meaning of a messed up family until you've heard about ours."

"My family is pretty, um…_unusual_, shall we call it," Jack said.

FLASHBACK

"So," breathed a pale skinned, dark haired girl with silvery-blue eyes, looking up at the familiar house of towering walls of red bricks, each carefully placed to achieve the haunted mansion look. A black, spiky gate guarded the house, with a few Dobermans thrown in for good measure. (A/N: anyone remembering this house?)

The two girls were young—barely around the ages of seventeen and nineteen. They had come in search of the woman to whom the house belonged.

The other girl, with deep brown eyes and even darker skin fished two rusty old fashioned keys from her tattered coat pocket.

"Reckon these will still work?" she whispered, fingering the two keys delicately as if they would snap like celery if too much pressure was placed upon them.

"I'm sure of it," replied the pale girl of nineteen.

"All right then. Here it goes." The younger dark haired girl named Anamaria squeaked, inserting the larger and heavier key into the black lock that belonged to the gate. The huge black dogs growled, showing a mouthful of gleaming, sharp teeth and snarling. The older, Cimorene, threw a milky white dog-bone over the tall, prickly fence and the dogs quickly scampered over to it.

"That had better keep them occupied," she whispered, peering through the black bars of the gate. "We spent all of our savings on that stupid thing."

The key was swiveled around in the lock by Anamaria, and with a loud _sproing_, the gate swung open. Anamaria pocketed the key, the frayed pocket almost letting it fall through to the ground.

The two girls walked cautiously down the pebbled path leading to the great ominous door painted a deep cherry red. They stopped immediately in front of the door.

"Well," said Cimorene, raising her fist. "Here it goes." She knocked on the door five times as Anamaria pummeled the doorbell feverishly. They waited for a few minutes and tried again.

Over and over this happened, until they realized that nobody was going to answer the door. Anamaria and Cimorene looked at each other. They both knew that using their key, the only thing that their mother had left them, to get inside the house was the way that neither of them wanted to enter. And they both knew that their mother hated opening doors—usually the people ringing the doorbell were trying to sell her something. Cimorene and Anamaria were obviously not looking to sell things.

"No choice then," Cimorene sighed, nodding at Anamaria. "Go for it."

Anamaria nodded also and tried to insert the small silver key into the lock of the cherry red door. At first it seemed that the key would not fit, but then it slid in and Ana turned it cautiously, trying not to make any noises. Cimorene seized the doorknob and twisted. The door swung open a few feet, creaking a little as it did so. She placed one foot inside. Her worn out shoe made a tiny squooshing noise. Anamaria and Cimorene exchanged small, sad smiles. They were dirtying their mother's shiny, mirror-like wood floors, something that she had always forbidden.

Finally, both of them were inside and the door was closed and locked as it had been only minutes ago. Before them sat a black, spindly staircase, going around and around, growing taller with every iron step. Though there was almost no light in the house that the pair of them could see, save for a pitiful green candle far away in what they assumed was the dining area with a teensy flame. They remembered the layout of the house well and knew that the stairs were only a few feet in front of them.

"Where d'you reckon she is?" Cimorene asked quietly, holding her breath.

"Bedroom?" Anamaria suggested, and gestured toward the staircase.

"As good a guess as any," Cimorene answered.

Hand in hand, they walked carefully up the spidery staircase single file, slowly leaving the flickering light of the small candle behind and plunging into darkness. Both Cimorene and Anamaria stumbled a few times, having only their feet and free hand to guide them, as the rickety staircase had a handrail on only one side. The journey seemed to last forever, until Anamaria's foot met not stair but some sort of squashy rug.

Again on this landing there was barely any light—just another one of the small green candles.

The two girls felt their way across the rough, peeling wall-papered walls to reach another large and ominous door, this one painted a dark purple. They had reached their mother's bedroom. Anamaria stuck her ear to the door and listened. There was a faint muttering coming out, and she pressed closer, beckoning Cimorene to do so also.

"Foul, smelly little persons who try to sell me things, as if I've got the money to spare for stupid chocolate covered cherries, not worth it, no, it's not—" a voice came, sharp and unrelenting. They had found their mother, but then—

"Drink some of this, m'lady; it'll ease your pain." A sweet, compelling voice. A maid, perhaps?

"No! There is no point, it won't help at all—ease my pain, ha!—as if anything would, and as for those selling people they gave my dogs some sort of toy to chew on, what if they—" there was a choking sound. Apparently, the maid had forced some of the liquid down her throat.

Putting on a fearless face, Anamaria pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a woman—dark haired and pale, like Cimorene—thrashing on a bed with squishy pillows, a goose feather-filled comforter and velvety sheets. Her eyes were rolling around in her head, spit was flying from her mouth as she spoke and her hair was a glossy sheen of knotted ropes. There was a film of sweat covering what they knew had once been a beautiful face. Now her eyes had lost their sparkle, her mouth had been twisted in an odd way, as if she had bitten down only moments ago on something sour. Her hair used to fall in wavy curtains of darkness down her back, but was now rumpled and bunched up under her head. They knew that yes, their mother had been pale, but this was a sickly kind of pale; it wasn't natural at all. It seemed that she hadn't moved from her bed in weeks, months even.

The maid, a pretty young girl with brilliant red hair that seemed to light up her face full of freckles paid no attention to Cimorene or Anamaria, assuming them to be more maids. She also seemed rather used to their mother's insane behavior, as if it was completely natural to act that way.

"Chantal, I need the—" the maid turned around, trying to balance some cups on a tray and restrain their mother at the same time. She turned around, spotted Anamaria and Cimorene, and promptly dropped the tray.

"Oh," she said faintly. "You…aren't Chantal."

This drew their mother's attention to them. Her eyes passed over Cimorene without any sign of recognition, but then her dull blue eyes settled on Anamaria, and they seemed to pop right out of her head.

"Yoou!" she howled, pointing an accusing finger at Anamaria, who was now cowering against Cimorene. "It's your fault! All yours! You wouldn't know that it's like to lose someone, no, you don't know what hardships I faced without him—you slimy little creature, on his way to the hospital to see your filth and you put some sort of spell on him—"

Anamaria looked frightened and confused. The maid suddenly had a lightbulb-above-the-head moment, grabbed both girls' arms, and steered them out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

"Look here, you two," the maid whispered, looking back into the room where more maids were rushing in. "Cimorene and Ana-Louise, right?"

"Anamaria," said Cimorene automatically.

"Whatever," the maid replied, brushing her hair off of her shoulders. "The point is, your mother—I knew her from school—thinks that Ana-Louise here"—Cimorene made a face—"killed your father. Certainly he died in an accident with some carriage or another, but in her mind she connected it with Ana-Louise's birth, since they were the same day. I've learned that she grew depressed, abandoned you in Tortuga, and became, in nicer words…er…mentally unstable. Some of her old friends and I came to visit her a few years ago, maybe catch up with her a little bit, but we just ended up staying here and tending to her. We all"—she gestured to her fellow maids—"have been here ever since, looking after both her and the house. She speaks of Ana-Louise often. But you, Cimorene, she's almost forgotten completely. When she's not screaming her lungs out, she's usually mourning her husband or cursing Ana-Louise."

"So…talking to her…" said Cimorene, looking uneasy. "Trying to calm her down…"

"Is useless," the maid finished firmly.

**A/N:** Look at me! The longest chapter yet, so I am going to celebrate today! If there are any typos (which happen to be one of my pet peeves) tell me please, because I was sort of watching Buffy while I was typing this…so I was distracted by a little something. (cough, cough, Spike, cough). Ahem, anyhow. Review please and tell me what you think!

As I will state on my other fanfiction, the Harry Potter one, I don't really have a set time for when I'm going to update because, as you all have probably realized, I haven't updated in forever, since school has been dumping a buttload of work on me. I will, however, try to update more frequently than I've been doing (which really isn't all that often anyway) and even more so since winter break is coming up. YES! I'm sleeping in.

Please review and make me happy!


	19. Blacksmiths and Sword Fighting Skill

**Pirates of the Caribbean 2: the Spirit of the Dead**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything except for Cimorene and this plot.

**A/N: **Okay, so I haven't updated in a while, but this spring break I resolved to do so at least once.

**Chapter 18: Blacksmiths and Sword Fighting Skill**

"So…trying to talk to our mother…" said Cimorene, looking uneasy. "Trying to calm her down…"

"Is useless," the maid finished firmly.

**ANAMARIA**

This story was told to Jack, his face arranging into many different facial expressions every once in a while, and he squawked out loud when he learned that their mother believed that Anamaria was the cause of her husband's death.

"So you see," Cimorene said, mood darkened. "It isn't really easy to talk about our past, as it's…"

"Really difficult," finished Anamaria. "Not to mention really messed up."

"I can tell," Jack muttered, looking away for a brief instant. Anamaria and Cimorene both looked rather flushed after sharing this memory with Jack; Ana becoming a little more red-ish, and Cimorene with pink dancing across her pale cheeks.

"But what happened to your mother?" Jack questioned, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Where is she now? Is she—"

"She's dead," Anamaria answered. "She died a while back. Apparently one of the maids left her for a while in the bathtub and she drowned herself. We're not sure if it was on purpose or not."

"So then her house, belongings, and money were left to me, being the eldest and all," Cimorene continued, fiddling with a pillow. "I left her house, checking up on it every once in a while. Her belongings; I mostly auctioned off, but some I keep in this house. And as for her money…" she gestured around the room, which had various paintings and pottery pieces in it. "Well, I put it to good use, buying myself a house and filling it with silly things. I've gotten a little smarter since then, and so I've gotten a little job at the bar…" Cimorene eyed Jack with a twinkle in her eye. "Where you used to meet Gisele…"

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I've been trying not to use up all the money. She was quite wealthy, but only because of my father. I've seen you a fair few times there, Jack. And I noticed that you seem to have something going with the ladies over there." Cimorene smirked. Jack looked sort of bewildered.

"You work as one of those behind the counter?" he questioned, interest skipping across his features.

"Yes," Cimorene answered. "But not as one of the prostitutes, like Gisele."

Jack turned to Anamaria.

"And you?" he asked.

"The day we learned that our mother died," Ana began slowly, glancing over at Cimorene. "Was the day that Cimorene and I parted. She left to come here, to Port Royal and see to our mother's house. It was from Chantal herself that the news came. As you can imagine, both Cimorene and I were shocked. I didn't want to accompany her to Port Royal, because I didn't want to see the house, or attend Mother's funeral. If I did that, I would have to accept that she was really gone. This way I could go on pretending. So I stayed in Tortuga, drinking all the rum that I could both handle and pay for. That was when you found me, Jack."

"No wonder you were so pissed off that day," said Jack, flashing a half smile that made Anamaria feel like toppling over.

"But there's another thing I'd like to know," Jack said, staring directly at Anamaria.

"Fire away," Anamaria said, sitting back in her seat and picking up a squashy pillow to rest her head on.

"How did you get so good with a sword?" asked Jack, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eyes.

"You learn a lot of things in Tortuga," Anamaria answered vaguely, rubbing a mosquito bite on her arm.

"I've found that out on my own," Jack said, still staring at Anamaria closely as if she was some kind of an unknown species and he was a scientist.

"Do tell, Ana," Cimorene said, smiling. "I've been waiting to hear this myself."

"A girl," Anamaria began, looking as if she really didn't want to tell the story. "From the orphanage in Tortuga."

"Oh," said Cimorene, shocked. "Do you mean…are you talking about Kate?"

"Yeah," said Anamaria, smiling and giving a tiny giggle.

"Kate? I thought the orphanage—" Jack said, a confused frown crossing his face.

"Kate was our friend from our first day in Tortuga's orphanage; she was the only person around our age, not to mention the only girl. When Cimorene went to go and see to our mother's house after she died, I was about nineteen, and Cimorene was twenty-one. Kate and I left Tortuga together and met a blacksmith, who was in need of an apprentice, mostly to help him because he was getting a bit old. Kate and I agreed to help him—if only we could sleep in the shop and eat for free. He agreed, and that's how I got into the sword-fighting business. The blacksmith was Kate's uncle, and that's how we knew where to go."

"Kate had an uncle?" asked Cimorene, her eyebrows knitting together. "But then why was she at the orphanage with us?"

"He wouldn't take her," Anamaria shrugged. "When we got there, he didn't recognize her. All that time he didn't know she was his niece."

"I think that's enough past-telling for the day," Cimorene cut in, peering out the window, which was extremely dark. She got up and pulled the curtains closed.

"But I—" Jack protested, standing up.

"NO buts," Cimorene cut in, whirling around to face him.

"All right," Jack muttered, looking down (as he was unused to having a woman controlling him).

Hmm, except for Anamaria, right? (wink, wink)

**A/N:** Okay, so, I admit, that was a rather useless filler chapter. BUT! I'm getting to the good stuff right after this one. I'm bringing Will and Elizabeth back, and Jack's dreams are continuing. So PLEASE MAKE ME HAPPY, AND **REVIEW!** :)

To my great reviewers:

**paige:** Thanks! And I finally updated!

**Anamaria's Lil' Sidekick:** Thank you bunches. :) The schoolwork is going okay…and I just might lose mine as well…hahaha.

**Elvra:** I love you.

**williz:** I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOU! I think you're the only reviewer that's been with this story since the beginning, so thanks for that!

**Ashlyns:** Thanks. :) I don't know about soon, but I updated!


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